


Basking in the Sun

by goldshard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Character, Gen, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldshard/pseuds/goldshard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A person could be called something besides he or she? They'd never considered—they'd just known that neither had fit for them. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Basking in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arcana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcana/gifts).



> EDIT: 12/23/2016
> 
> Hi. This fic has been up for awhile. 
> 
> Like my other Haikyuu!! trans fics, when I wrote this I didn't really know a lot about the transgender community. I wrote them as gifts to my trans friends basically, I just wanted to give them nice fics for their headcanons. I realize now that a lot of the content in these fics is problematic. If I wrote them today they would likely be radically different from their present form, or I might not have written them at all. 
> 
> I'm keeping them up for the record, and for anyone who may still enjoy them. I do however acknowledge that there are issues with these stories. Please keep that in mind while reading, and err on the side of caution if it may upset you.
> 
> Thanks,  
> goldshard
> 
> ORIGINAL NOTE:
> 
> This is written for my lovely friend Skye, and for all ae has done for me--bless aem. Here is some agender!Suga, friend <3
> 
> As a cisgender person, writing and posting this is extremely nervewracking for me--please please please tell me if there's any content or language used in the fic that is transphobic, or generally ignorant. I will do my best to apologize, and fix the mistake.

 Their earliest memory of it was about clothes. One year, a few weeks before school started back up, standing in the center of the section for little boys clothes, and realizing that there wasn't one thing that they wanted to wear.

The shopping trip had been a failure, and they'd ended up crying in the middle of the crowded aisle of the store. Their mother had no idea what was wrong, and instead was swallowing herself whole in the embarrassment of it. Her cheeks were blazing red, and she kept saying, “really, I'm sorry about my son,” to strangers, and for some reason, they couldn't shake the feeling that these strangers should be sorry, not their mother, not them.

So, they went to school in a gray t-shirt and pair of jeans that didn't feel quite right. The teacher had arranged all their desks boy-girl, boy-girl, and they felt, sitting between two little girls with their hair braided and rhinestones on their shoes, that they were somehow breaking the pattern.

When they were finally let to go eat their lunches, Koushi felt themself frozen in their seat. A whole morning of introductions, name games, and discussion, and they hadn't learned a single one of their classmates names.

“Hey, are you coming?” Somebody asked them. Koushi turned, and their eyes met a boy with short black hair clutching a lunch box that had a truck on it.

“Y-yeah,” Koushi said, their breath catching in their throat. The pushed their chair out from their desk, and the boy followed them back to the cubbies where they retrieved their own packed lunch.

“Your name is Koushi, right?” the boy asked them.

“Yeah,” Koushi said, and looked at their ratty sneakers for a moment. “I don't remember your name though. I'm sorry.”

“My name is Daichi,” the boy said, and smiled brightly. Koushi couldn't help but to smile and blush themself—there was something about Daichi's personality to them that was infectious.

They sat at the end of one of the long cafeteria tables, and ate in silence a few moments, but Daichi broke it. “Are you sad?” he asked, “You seem like you're sad.”

“I just haven't felt comfortable at school. That's all.”

“Well, don't worry about it. If you're not happy about being shoved into a box, that's good, 'cuz boxes don't give people room to grow,” Daichi said, and took a large bite of his sandwich.

Looking back, Koushi really doubted that Daichi had any idea of their feelings at the time. After all, they hardly knew each other then. Daichi had probably thought that they were nervous that the other kids didn't like them. But somehow, Daichi had said the right thing. And it had stuck with Koushi for eight years.

* * *

 

In gym class one day, they started the volleyball unit. Koushi had never enjoyed gym class, they weren't naturally talented at anything they try and they always seemed to find themself on the floor with bloody knees and tears in their eyes.

But with Daichi, it was better for them. Daichi was naturally athletic, and had excellent coordination, but it seemed that whenever they partnered up with Daichi, Koushi seemed to get a better feeling for it. They could run longer, kept better balance, and learned to throw and catch a baseball. It was an exciting development.

They activity was just a basic exercise—passing a volleyball back and forth. However, Koushi found that they were doing well with it. They had a handle on the ball, and something about the movements felt natural.

The unit progressed, and they played hastily organized games, but both Daichi and Koushi had shown the most promise, and they ended up leading most of the quickly sorted teams. When they played, Koushi felt like they had everything in order, and that everything was going correctly. Koushi felt like themself.

* * *

 

As they got older, Koushi spent less time thinking of it. They disassociated themself from the feelings—they weren't needed, they were unnecessary. They told themself at night when desperately they wanted to crawl out of their own skin, _it doesn't matter. You're being silly._

They pushed it aside, as long as they could. It was really by accident that they came across it at all. Somebody that they'd hardly known on Facebook had posted a link. “How To Bully Facebook into Giving You Gender Neutral Pronouns”.

Koushi could admit, they weren't the best grammar student. It took them a moment to realize what that meant, and then they thought on it. A person could be called something besides he or she? They'd never considered—they'd just known that neither had fit for them.

They opened a new tab, and keyed in the search term. “Gender Neutral Pronouns”.

It was like a plethora of information had exploded before their eyes. One stood out to them, a page from “nonbinary.org”. They clicked the link, and there it was. They read over the page, and finally reached the bottom. _Many binary and nonbinary trans people experience dysphoria when people refer to them using the wrong pronouns._

…Dysphoria? They clicked the link, and slowly lost themselves into the information. They had so many new words. Gender neutral pronouns. Gender dysphoria. Nonbinary, bigender, agender, genderfluid. Demigirl, demiboy. The words felt like they were digging into their head and setting themselves up at home.

Their was one he kept going back to. Agender. Without gender. Something about the concept... felt familiar. And suddenly, Koushi realized that they'd found all the names for their feelings. These names weren't “broken”, “incomplete”, or “immature”. These words were “agender” and “nonbinary”.

And these words felt comforting and warm, like basking in the sun.

* * *

 

Koushi felt like they needed to share it with someone, but somehow the prospect of their parents frightened them. Still, though, they wanted to share their discovery, and show someone that finally, things made sense, that their feelings were real and true and other people felt them too.

So it was Daichi. They were sitting at their usual spot eating lunch. Daichi still had the same lunch box all these years. Koushi said, “hey, can we talk about something kinda important?”

Daichi put down his food. “What's up, Suga?” he asked.

“Well, um, this is new for me, but, I'm not a boy.”

Daichi was quiet a moment, before he said, “Do you feel like you're a girl?” It was not hostile though. The words were slow, understanding, his expression pensive and thoughtful.

“Um... Actually I'm neither. I don't... It's hard to explain. I'm not a boy or a girl, or anything else. I don't have a gender.” Koushi said, gripping their hands tightly, and cracking their knuckles, repeatedly.

“Oh, okay,” Daichi said. “I understand.” He was quiet a long moment, before he said, “What do you want me to call you?”

“I like it when people use, like, they and them to refer to me. It just feels right.”

“Okay.” Daichi looked at them a long moment, before he said, “Hey, Suga?”

“Yeah?” Koushi asked, finally looking up and meeting his face.

Daichi was smiling warmly. “I can tell that this is like... A great weight lifted off your shoulders.” Koushi nodded, and then Daichi said, “And it makes me so, so happy that you can feel this way.”

Daichi surged forward and hugged them, and for a moment, Koushi started at the sudden contact, but they quickly melted into the embrace, hugging back just as tight, feeling their fingers press into the skin of Daichi's back, Daichi's own arms pressed tight around them. Koushi buried their face in Dachi's shirt, the material soft against their forehead.

They didn't need a gender to be whole and complete.

It was the most freeing realization they'd ever come to.


End file.
